


Mother Knows Best

by pigeonpriest



Category: COMMUNICATIONS Series - GHOST
Genre: (kinda sorta maybe), Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 15:13:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10281896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pigeonpriest/pseuds/pigeonpriest
Summary: Just when Henry Elsner feels like life will finally go his way, his mother decides that belittling him is the only way to fix this issue. Both of them are in for a surprise.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ~PLEASE READ~  
> If you looked at the title and thought of Rapunzel, congratulations! That's exactly what this fic is based on, along with the COMMUNICATIONS source material.  
> (Please keep in mind that I wrote this fic before I learned that Henry is actually aroace, and that his relationship with Nancy is mainly platonic. I apologize for the inaccuracy, and I hope that doesn't stir up any trouble! Thank you, and I hope you enjoy the story!)

As the screen door of the kitchen shut with the faintest of clicks,  
Henry Elsner's heart leapt with nervous joy.

          After patiently waiting for his mother to disappear into  
her room, after HOURS of listening to her daily sermons of  
death and loneliness, Henry had finally been able to sneak  
away from their prison of a house. It took every ounce of  
courage, but he had done it; he was able to escape into the  
night and meet with Nancy, his best friend and the apple of his eye. Under a starry night sky, on a picnic date in the park, he  
had gotten the guts to get down on one knee and propose.  
And what was more, she said yes!  
For once, it felt as though everything was going their way.  
           A blush lightly burned his cheeks as he closed the  
wooden kitchen door, the dreamy smile in his face only growing  
wider as it shut with barely a sound. Henry could still feel Nancy's  
touch on his chest from when they slow danced under the crescent  
moon hanging above. He could still hear the croon of her voice from  
when she said that his proposal had been pink to her. That made Henry  
think of an old French song he had heard once, and together they hummed  
what they could remember, in too much of a happy daze to think of the  
foreign lyrics.  
           The young man continued the song as he quickly locked the door.  
This had to be true bliss. He felt as though he were lighter than air, as though  
he were in Heaven!  
           Yet as he turned around to creep back to his room, he felt the cold hand  
of fear drag him back into Hell.

"Welcome back, Henry..."

           There, smoking on the sofa across from the kitchen entrance, sat his  
mother, Frances Elsner. Her face was illuminated by the burning cigarette between  
her fingers, and even with a smirk, Henry could tell she was not at all happy to see  
him...  
        Henry was terrified. No. No, no, no, this shouldn't have happened. His mother  
never got up in the middle of the night. How did she find out that he-  
"So," she began, "Busy night, hm? You didn't tell me you had... plans." Frances  
hissed out the last word and took a drag of her cancer stick, as though replacing one bad  
taste with another. Henry really didn't know how to respond; any good feeling from tonight  
had left him completely as he stared his mother, his warden, in the face."You know, sweetie, you really gave me a scare! I got up to get a glass of water, only  
to find your door open and your bed empty. Nearly had a heart attack, I was so worried... a  
shame it didn't pull through."  
          To hear a woman speak of her own demise so conversationally, so nonchalantly like that,  
would normally send a shiver down a poor man's spine, but Henry was used to it. No, instead  
he wanted to scream with frustration. Tonight had been so perfect, but oh no, she had to just go and ruin-  
           "Really, though, Henry, I thought you were smarter than that! I had to sneak out plenty of times, what with your.... father and his ways, and even I knew not to make a silly mistake like that. I was your age, too!" she said, seemingly amused by his terrified silence. Regret threatened to drown the young man, a victim of...

'My own, stupid mistake,' he thought, his mother's signature guilt-tripping already taking effect. The blame only fit for him, in his and his mother's eyes.

  
            "But that was then, the good old days when I didn't have a son to dote on," she mused,  
the orange glow of her cigarette adding to the cloud of nostalgia in her eyes, "I know better now,  
you know, than to go off chasing fairy tales. The only two things that will ever be set in stone for us are...

  
"Death," she began, tapping her cigarette in her adjacent ash tray, "and the fact that I know best..." With that, she slowly crushed the end into the container, and twist and swivel punctuating each word.

"And. You. Don't."  
  
              There was something about what she said that set off a long repressed anger inside of him, one that had been dampened over the years by guilt and isolation. But Henry's love for Nancy was like kerosene, and he would be damned if he let his mother put out that fire as she had tried to do for so long.  
              Frances stood from her place on the sofa and sighed. "I say we continue this conversation in the morning, what with me being kept so rudely awake until past midnight. Come on, Henry; time for bed."  
Henry found his voice of the defiance simmering within him, and before his mother could turn away, he spoke.  
  
"No."

  
She froze in her tracks, and after a long moment, turned to face her son with eyes wide and nostrils flaring. A strained grin spread across her face.  
"What? No?"

  
             Henry's heart was pounding, but he knew he couldn't stop now. "Y-You heard me! No! You're wrong, Mother. A-About a lot of things."  
Frances' eyes narrowed incredulously, processing his blatant display of... disrespect?  
"Really now? Do tell," she said, her voice a sweet sort of venom.  
  
"Y-You're wrong about the world. About the people in it."

"Henry, you only think so because you're naive. You have no sense. The world and everyone in it are only out to get you. One wrong step and they'll tear you apart. Eat you alive. Trust me, dear, I-"

"No! No, you don't know! The world is not as black and white, worse and worser still as you think! I should know. I've met the most beautiful, the most loving girl out there, and she is NOTHING like the monsters you've warned me of. You're a fool who spreads lies, Mother. Lies of paranoia and poor judgement."

"Don't you DARE speak to me like that, Henry, Frances shrieked. She had a flame in her eyes that would not be extinguished as easily as the cigarettes she commonly smoked. "The only way you could 'know' about these things is by abandoning me. How could you do that to your MOTHER, who has done nothing but love and protect you from the cruelty of the outside for some... some TRAMP?!"  
Henry was growing more and more furious with each second of this exchange. He had never, EVER, been in an argument this intense or this lengthy before, especially with HER. Any disagreement they had always ended with him as the loser, and Frances the winner... Henry relished in the power his rebellion gave him: the power to finally turn the tables in his favor.  
"Nancy is no tramp. She is a better person than you have ever been towards me. She doesn't hate me, she LOVES me. She doesn't belittle me, she CARES about me. She-"  
           "-will leave you the next chance she gets," Frances interrupted. Her voice had grown dangerously soft, a jarring change from the octave it had pitched to not even a minute before. The two stood in silence, Henry wracking his frazzled brain in search of a way to end this argument for good. The tension that hung in the air was choking him, his newfound anger not helping in the slightest.  
           "Mother," he started, struggling to stay calm, "Nancy and I? A-Are going to get married soon. Y-You... c-can't do anything to change that, b-because we are not children anymore! It's time we moved on. The world is not as cruel as you believe, a-and I pray you see that one day."  
            To his surprise, he was met with pure silence, which worried him greatly. Henry had expected screaming, crying for him to not be so heartless and leave her like that, not... silence. Not from his mother, not her.  
            Just when he thought he would die before the suspense cleared, Frances...  
Laughed.... chuckled.... as though this were all a big joke.  
            "Well, alright, dear. Whatever you say," she cooed, and in the dim moonlight of the living room, Henry saw that that same, eerie smile had hidden any anger that had once been on her face.

  
She didn't look defeated.  
She didn't look spiteful

She looked... happy. Gleeful, relieved...

  
... and victorious.

  
"Yes, whatever you say. You go ahead marry the little whore, because you'll just prove me right... again... like you always seem to do."  
  
"Wha-What are you-"  
  
"Trust me, Henry, you're going to wish you had listened to me. I don't have to be happy now. Why's that, you ask? Because in the end, I know I'll have been right about everything..."  
           She slowly walked toward him until she was only a foot or so away. He could see the sick joy in her eyes as she placed a hand under his chin, and tilted his head up to meet her taunting gaze.  
"The world you claim is so good will be the death if you AND your... lucky little bride..."  
"And when we're all six feet under? And you're regretting every mistake, every dumb decision you made because you didn't listen to your dear mother's advice?"  
  
           She tightened her grip on his chin and leaned forward, whispering into his ear with a quiver in her voice.

"You're gonna hear me laughing and REALLY feel sorry for abandoning me like everyone else did."

           Just as she had wanted, Frances had the last say in the matter. With this in mind, she released her vice-like grip on her son and motioned towards the dark hallway connected to the living room. "Now-what with all the planning you're gonna have to do- would be a good time to get some shut eye. It wouldn't do you any good to plan a wedding while nearly passing out, hmm~?" She sounded so cheery, knowing she had still won.                

Henry was trying not to vomit as he slowly, robotically walked to his room, his mother's words stirring up even more fear and guilt in his brain. Before he disappeared around the corner, he heard Frances call out to him. "Goodnight, Henry~! Sweet dreams!"                   

         Henry could tell that her wishes were empty ones, and he shuddered at the thought of what curses she was willing upon him after his defiance. "G-Goodnight!" he called back, at last snapping out of his horrified stupor and rushing to his bedroom.  
          Even still, as Henry Elsner slid down his bedroom door with a shaky sigh, he felt overjoyed at the prospect of what his future with Nancy held. He would keep his promise: he wouldn't let Frances ruin what he and his fiancé shared. There was no way he'd let her ominous, yet ridiculous warnings get to him. His mother was a woman scorned. She drank life like black coffee and hated it, but refused to acknowledge any of the sweetness around her to brighten her life. And just because her life had been a dull gray did not mean that he couldn't have a colorful one.

  
As Henry slipped into a deep sleep, ignoring Frances' hysterics that would no doubt continue past dawn, he dreamed of Nancy dancing in a world of pink hues, singing of romance and roses.

His mother, Frances Elsner, did not know best.  
Not when it came to him, his Nancy, or anything else. 

 

 


End file.
